


Friends

by Mr Numbers (venetianAnarchist)



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I'm sorry Thomas, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Sickfic, mostly angst, technically canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:27:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venetianAnarchist/pseuds/Mr%20Numbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy was sick. Not ordinary sick. He didn't just have a bit of a stuffy nose, or a hangover. He was dying.</p><p>"You're not dying, Jimmy." </p><p>Thomas didn't seem to be taking this very seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friends

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Downton fic. I honestly just can't contain my love for Thomas and I relate to him so much it hurts. So here, have this shitty little dose of pain.

Jimmy was sick. Not ordinary sick. He didn't just have a bit of a stuffy nose, or a hangover. He was dying.

"You're not dying, Jimmy." 

"What do you know? I'm sick as a dog!"

"You're not even running a temperature. Mr. Carson would be making you work, if he could see you." 

Thomas didn't seem to be taking this seriously. Jimmy sniffed and rolled over, making a show of groaning and sinking deeper into the flimsy blankets on his bed. His head was aching, and his throat felt like a dessert. And the cold, the goddamn cold was not helping.

"Yeah, well that's why I didn't call for him. You get it, don't you, Thomas? I can't work like this. I just need to rest." 

Apparently Jimmy sounded pitiful enough to elicit a mild sigh and a look of concern. He could read Thomas like a book, and it seemed clear that his hesitation wouldn't last long. Jimmy was hoping he'd give his excuses downstairs and let Jimmy sleep. Just one day, it wasn't like he was asking for much. And he was definitely sick. So sick. Any worse and he'd be going to the hospital, he was sure of it.

"Right. Right. Well, how abouts I go and tell Mr. Carson the situation. Tell him that you're not well. And then I'll come back and make sure you're alright."

"You really don't have to do that-"

Thomas cut him off. "I do. If you're as sick as you say you are, then someone has to keep an eye on you."

Jimmy sniffled and made a half-arsed attempt at shrugging. Thomas looked at him for a moment, obviously wanting to say something, before shaking himself and heading out. He pulled the door closed, and Jimmy let out a small sigh of relief. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, before settling in properly and waiting for Thomas' return. 

-

"Jimmy?"

The tentative voice caused Jimmy's eyes to open. He felt groggy again, and he breathed a yawn that tapered off into a groan. It was only when his mind cleared that he could make sense of the situation. Thomas was standing by the bed, with a tray of soup and some water, along with a small bowl of raspberries. 

Jimmy's eyebrows knitted together as the under butler placed the tray on the small table beside his bed. Obviously he'd fallen asleep for longer than he'd intended to. 

"I just - uh. I wanted to make sure you eat something. Soup'll help your throat and the raspberries are supposed to be healthy and whathaveyou. Stole 'em from under Miss Patmore's nose." 

He sounded quite pleased with himself about that last part. Jimmy couldn't help but crack a smile. 

"Why'd you do all this?" 

Thomas looked a bit pained for a moment, before his lips arched into a somewhat stiff smile. "'S'what friends are for." 

-

Another few hours went by before Jimmy heard the light creak of his door open. He kept his eyes closed, too tired and pitiful to actually make any attempt at interaction. A brief glance after a few moments shows the lithe figure of Thomas collecting his dishes and quietly moving towards the door once more. Jimmy knows the under butler doesn't leave right away. He lingers there in the doorway, and the younger man has to shift slightly to hide his face. He knows his cheeks are probably heating up. 

Thomas leaves after a minute or two. It's obvious how concerned he is, and Jimmy can't help but feel that familiar pang in his heart. Is this using Thomas? Is it fair? He probably shouldn't dwell on it for too long. 

He is surprised, however, when the other man returns only a few moments later, armed with blankets. It takes Jimmy only a moment to deduce that they're from Thomas' own bed. He blinks tiredly as the blankets are laid gently over him, lovingly, even. Thomas gives him a small smile, and Jimmy can see a mixture of compassion, longing and sadness in his eyes. It makes him shut his own immediately afterwards.

-

Jimmy is sitting up in bed next time Thomas comes in. He brings him lunch. Jimmy takes it with no small amount of guilt. Meanwhile, Thomas pulls up a chair and reads the paper, and Jimmy feels as though it's the mirror image of the time they spent together after Thomas had taken that beating for him. He mentally berates himself for bringing up something so emotionally straining. 

"See there's a new Pope?" 

Thomas asked, a little bit absentmindedly. 

"Oh? Are you a religious man, Mr. Barrow?"

This earned Jimmy a snort. "What do you think?"

Jimmy figured that made sense, and glanced away, worrying his lip. He sniffed, and Thomas immediately moved to get him a tissue. Jimmy could have reached.

"Mr. Barrow- Thomas. You don't have to do all this for me. I'll be fine. Honestly." 

Thomas swallows, looks away, gives a few slow nods. 

"You probably need to rest, anyway."

The way he clears his throat, and the look on his face, make Jimmy regret his words. He'd wanted to make it clear. What, though, he wanted to make clear, was suddenly evading him. It had probably sounded as though Thomas' company was making him uncomfortable. It wasn't, he'd moved past that, but he couldn't help but feel as though he was treating the other unfairly. Milking him for attention and care that Thomas gave out of infatuation. Infatuation that Jimmy had reacted so harshly towards. 

Once Thomas had left, Jimmy let out a sigh and rubbed his face. He knew he couldn't stop Thomas from pining, and in the other's own words, Thomas never asked for anything. He never asked for what he wanted. And what he wanted, they both knew, was Jimmy. 

But they were friends. They were friends. Jimmy was content with that.

So why did he still feel so guilty?

 

 


End file.
